


I Won't Let you Fall

by AntivanCrafts



Category: Dragon Age: Origins, Gargoyles (TV)
Genre: M/M, and even more into this pairing, crossover of the crackiest sort, i have dedicated quite a lot of thought, into gargoyle's doing the do, it makes utter and complete sense in context, look - Freeform, this represents years' worth of roleplaying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-29 22:13:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11450121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AntivanCrafts/pseuds/AntivanCrafts
Summary: Zevran Arainai has long since grown used to his new existence as a gargoyle, and Broadway has always been there to lend a steadying hand. Tonight, Zevran wants that hand to be his own. Among other things.





	I Won't Let you Fall

Some nights, after coming awake to find Zevran twining around his shoulders like a particularly boneless and self satisfied cat, Broadway found himself chuckling and moving on to the night’s activities with his very own living scarf, there to bear witness and give comfort in a way that he was still (and maybe never would) quite grow accustomed to, but not tonight.

Tonight, as with many nights, Zevran’s body language had shifted just enough in an almost imperceptible way that it brought Broadway to instant attention, in more than one way. Zevran made a chirruping noise that Broadway vaguely thought must have sounded very strange to any humans nearby, even more so when it lowered an octave as he brought a hand sweeping down low across the softness of Broadway’s belly. “Do you know how beautiful you are?” Zevran murmured to him, his voice gone rough and husky in that way that made Broadway shiver. “Truly are? I do not know that you do.”

Broadway let out a soft, self conscious chuckle and tried to banish the shivering feeling of doubt that flooded through him when he heard that, as it always did, because Zevran never lied. Did not. He knew that, bone deep and sure as the moon in the sky, but...

He shivered again when Zevran twister closer, his spine flexing in a way no human’s could to bring himself sliding against Broadway in a very interesting way even as he continued speaking to him, claws scraping gently along his scalp near the base of his horns. “You are,” he was murmuring into the shell of Broadway’s ear, pulling back so that Broadway could see his golden, catlike eyes fixed on his own, and the smile below it that was as real and true as Zevran was. “There is no ‘but’ dear heart,” Zevran told him, “no ‘despite.’ Only ‘because,’ only ‘by’ and ‘you’ and ‘is everything made whole.’”

Broadway wrinkled his nose and made a soft, rumbling noise that was half burgeoning arousal and half mild dismay at what he was hearing, self doubt making him clutch at Zevran as his mate hummed to him, continuing to preen and scratch and chirrup to him until he relaxed bit by bit, until he was pressing back. Until his own clawed hand, bigger than Zevran’s own, settled on the golden planes and angles of Zevran’s back, tugging him just that bit closer.

Zevran went willingly, eagerly, feathered wings flaring out before closing around the both of them, encasing them and hiding them from view in an instinct Zevran never could quite shake off, no matter how he tried. Broadway said nothing of it, only nosed his mouth along the edge of Zevran’s beak, hand following behind to trace at it, reassurance and kiss both.

Zevran’s wings started to tremble around them as Broadway’s left hand started to smooth across Zevran’s chest. “Taking charge, mi armor?” He hummed, pupils blown wide as he shivered, panting lightly as he felt his cock start to emerge, glistening and wet, from his sheath. “Please, do so as much as you want. More, and lower.”

Broadway chuckled against his beak, his clever fingers sure as Zevran’s own weren't. They often shook and spawned on close, detail work or things as soft as this, as important as this, and Broadway could sometimes nearly taste his frustration. But not today. Today, he only wanted Zevran to feel good, as good as he made Broadway feel, so even as one hand teased still at his chest, claws lightly dragging down his ribs so that Zevran gasp, his other teased beneath his loincloth.

His touch was light at first, teasing, making Zevran whimper lightly in a small, halfhearted protest. His hips bucked up to meet Beoadway’s touch more insistently, but Broadway pulled back so that his touch stayed light. “You,” Zevran huffed after a few minutes of this, “are quite impossibly frustrating, you know.”

“Am I?” Broadway asked innocently, eyes wide, making Zevran chuckle, light and fond and real in a way he didn't, often enough, making them both smile at each other in a way that they did no matter the circumstances, always.

And then they both seemed to remember themselves, Zevran and Broadway reaching for Broadway’s cock at the same time as Broadway started to stroke himself, easing back onto his back to ready himself to take Zevran into him, only for Zevran to gently seize his wrist and cock, both. “No,” he was told, Zevran looking back at Broadway with a soft, sweet smile that was saved only for him. “I want to feel you.” He shivered, started to protest until Zevran asked in that same soft, soft voice, “Please?” And how could he be expected to resist that? He couldn't.

A moment of distraction, then, as Zevran retrieved a jar of soft, sweet smelling oiled lubricant that he had gotten in a way he never clarified to Broadway. They stretched him out slow, carefully, clawed hands not being ideally suited to this task, but Zevran hummed along the whole time, low and reassuring in its waver when it started to feel good, better, before deepening into an impatient huff. That got a chuckle out of Broadway

Zevran slicked him up, eyes locked on his as they so often were, communicating quite a bit more than his words sometimes could, and then he was raising himself over top of Broadway, wings fluttering to counterbalance as he lined himself up. “Do keep staring,” Zevran told him in that moment of pause, grinning. “It's very good for my pride.”

And then he was pushing down on him, making them both groan aloud and clutch at each other as Zevran spread his legs a bit wider, feathers rustling as he sank down further and started to ride him. Broadway could only watch at first, transfixed, as Zevran worked himself on Broadway’s cock, the long fall of his braided hair swaying, panted breaths loud and echoing in the large space, before his clawed hands settled at Zevran’s hips.

He was gentle at first, hesitant, nudging Zevran downward only with the ghost of an impression, but Zevran obeyed the slightest direction, sinking down every inch of his cock until Broadway was buried deep inside of him, until they were pressed flush together. Zevran paused there for a moment, both adjusting to his girth and luxuriating in the feel of it, and twisted lightly, grinding down on Broadway so that, even though he'd hit the base and Broadway was fully sheathed within him, it brought an interesting pressure to bear that went bone deep, that made Broadway growl lightly, his grip growing just that bit more sure around Zevran’s hips, and pulled him down.

Zevran was tight and hot and clenching tighter around him with every roll of Zevran’s hips, but it was his eyes he was looking at, even when Zevran took one of his large hands in his own and guided it to wrap around Zevran’s cock. Zevran’s eyes fluttered as he let out a little whimpering whine that made Broadway purr, that made his eyes crinkle in one of his slow, spreading smiles. “Didn't tell me you were interested,” he said to Zevran in a teasing undertone. “Are you sure you like me?”

Zevran bucked into his hand in answer before settling back onto Broadway’s cock, making them both go breathless. “Always,” he said back instantly, without hesitation, wiping that smile from Broadway’s lips, to be replaced by a wondering one as they both set a slow pace at first, rocking back and forth into each other in a rhythm they had both echoed in their every interaction from the first.

Gradually, however, they started to speed up, panted breaths turning into soft moans and sweet cries every time Broadway bottomed out, every time he drew back until just the head remained inside and Zevran’s head lolled on his shoulders to rest against Broadway’s, whining, only to thrust back in sudden and hard. By now, they had picked up the pace, faster and faster, skin slapping against skin, hands and hips working to bring them close and closer, both to each other and the brink.

Just before he erupted, Zevran lurched forward to rub his beak along Broadway’s mouth, his hand skating back to cradle the back of his head as he started to come. Broadway marveled. Zevran always looked so vulnerable when he came, wide eyed and gasping and clinging to his shoulders as he rode out wave after wave of sensation, and Broadway tugged him closer. He fought against the urge he always had to close his eyes tight and bury his face so as to witness this moment, as he always tried to do.

To Zevran, the physical act of his climax was almost an afterthought compared to how it made him feel, but to Broadway, neither was more or less important than the other, because as much as he truly felt connected to his mate in this moment as he had few others in his lifetime, the simple act of feeling his tight warmth contract around him and feeling liquid heat splash up across his belly and thighs were just as remarkable as any sunset, and then he was coming, too; panted breaths gone deeper, huskier, dragging Zevran down the length of his cock once, twice more, his hips stuttering against Zevran’s until he gave one last, gravelly textured moan of Zevran’s name and arched, back bowing spasmodically as he came deep inside Zevran.

The whole world whited out around them, reduced down to movement and sound and the need he has to crawl into Zevran, close and closer, his moan extending and going higher pitches until humans would barely have been able to hear it until he finally, gradually, sank back down to lean against Zevran. He noticed only then that Zevran had been preening at his scalp again, long fingered hands dancing over the sensitive skin by his horns in small but expanding circles.

“There are words for this,” Zevran told him, making Broadway pull back to peer at him somewhat worriedly. Even now, moments after they had been joined, he wondered if parts of Zevran’s past had arisen in his mind again, but Zevran only twined closer with a hum of his name that reverberated in the space between their chests in a way that made them both shiver in memory of what they had just done. “One of them, the most important, is love.”


End file.
